


You'll not feel the drowning

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Commander in Chief (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-20
Updated: 2006-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 02:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1625678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"forget you once had sweethearts / they've forgotten you."  Jayne/Kelly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You'll not feel the drowning

**Author's Note:**

> title  & summary from the decemberists. thanks to thenewhope for the superfast, superawesome beta and to anotherjuxtaposition, who just generally rocks. also, sheepfairy, i didn't write you the templeton story you wanted. i tried so hard, but jayne wanted to talk.
> 
> Written for sheepfairy

 

 

The first time Jayne sees her, she's sitting at a bar, staring down in to an empty glass.

It's not the kind of bar people from Capitol Hill go to in order to get recognized. In fact, Jayne thinks she probably knows everybody worth knowing, even from behind, which means the girl at the bar is probably nobody.

A tourist, maybe, says the part of Jayne's mind that categorizes people into useful and useless, but she doesn't think so - the cut of her jacket is too clean for that. Even still, there's a haze of transience around her like a just-smoked cigarette. A pharmaceuticals rep, Jayne thinks, or a visiting professor a lifetime away from tenure.

Jayne takes the stool next to the girl, who keeps her practiced glance down at the last mouthful of her drink. Jayne shrugs off her jacket and drapes it over her crossed legs, and when the bartender approaches, she says, "Tanqueray and tonic. Two limes."

"I'll have the same," the girl says quickly. The bartender smiles as he moves to fill two glasses with ice.

"I'm surprised he didn't ask to see your ID," Jayne says.

"When I first got here, he did," the girl says. She pushes the hair back from her face, turns to look at Jayne. Jayne's not sure why, but she didn't expect the girl to be so pretty, all good bone structure and smudged mascara around huge blue eyes. "Happens to me a lot." She offers her hand without turning on the stool. It's awkward and sweet, and Jayne smiles. "Kelly Ludlow."

"Jayne Murray," she says. "Nice to meet you."

Kelly almost laughs, and in the long moment before she releases Jayne's hand, the bartender delivers their drinks. "I know who you are," she says.

Jayne taps the bottom of her glass with her straw without meeting Kelly's eyes, then raises her eyebrows. "Oh?" she says, secretly pleased.

Kelly nods. "What's a person like you doing in a place like this?"

"Trying to find somewhere where nobody knows who I am," Jayne says, then takes a long drink. Her glass is sweaty, slick, cold, and she thinks about that instead of thinking about how she's here to hide.

There's a silence before Kelly says anything else, and Jayne nearly apologizes for being so rude. But then Kelly says, "I can pretend. Not to know you, I mean. If you want."

Jayne smiles. She raises her glass, and Kelly raises hers, and as they touch, Kelly says, "To not knowing anything at all."

*

When she walks into the office the next morning, Nathan is sitting at his computer, reading something over the top edge of his bifocals.

"Anything interesting, Boss?" she asks, dropping her briefcase on to the sofa before sitting down next to it.

"My, my, somebody's very popular this week," Nathan says, smirking over the paper's top edge.

"Excuse me?" Jayne says, raising her eyebrows. She rests her coffee cup against her knee and waits, but Nathan just keeps chuckling to himself. "Humor me, it's early."

"This is, in fact, the second time this week I've seen you mentioned on Wonkette," Nathan says. "I fear that without you, the gossip columns might go out of business."

Jayne frowns. "I knew we never should've taught you to use the internet."

"'Watch out, Washington,'" Nathan reads, and since he obviously thinks this is the funniest thing he's seen all week, Jayne knows there's no way to stop him. "'Blonde bombshell Jayne Murray, the Speaker's Chief of Staff, has apparently decided to throw off the heavy mantle of high class. She was seen last night at a dive called Ray's' - oh, Jayne, I really am glad you have the chance to get out. I was afraid I was working you too hard."

Jayne groans and drops her head back against the sofa. "I don't find you the least bit funny, Boss. Really. Not even a little bit."

But he clearly can't help himself. "Where was--oh, yes, `Ray's, chatting it up with someone from D.C.'s lowest political tier: a member of Vice President Allen's staff. Either Jayne was drunk or speechwriter Kelly Ludlow is the only animate person Allen knows, because according to our source, they were awfully cozy.'" Nathan looks up. "And someone took pictures with their cellular phone."

"Oh, please tell me they got my good side," Jayne says, then sets her coffee cup down on the table. As she reaches for her briefcase, she says, "Now, is the public embarrassment portion of the morning over?"

Nathan gets up from the desk, but he's still smirking. "One of the vice president's speechwriters, hm? Is she cute?" It's a joke that would be much funnier if Kelly weren't so pretty and if it didn't hurt Jayne just a little to have him look at her like that.

"You, my friend, are a dirty old man." She clicks open the briefcase as he finally sits down across from her, apparently ready to do something more than talk about the publicly embarrassing but personally gratifying evening she'd had with Kelly. "I was reading, this morning--"

"You know," Nathan says, cutting her off, "it wouldn't be such a bad idea to have someone on the inside of Allen's operation." He taps a finger against his knee, lost in thought. "You could--"

"I really couldn't," Jayne says. "Or is that how we work now? Coercing information out of--"

"There is, after all, Jim," Nathan says, eyebrows raised just a little.

"Jim," Jayne says, "is entirely different. Jim couldn't possibly tell you anything the President hadn't already filled you in on. Hell, I think you usually know about things before even he does."

"In fact," Nathan says, relaxing a little back into his chair, and Jayne is glad to know - because she knows his body language well enough by now - that this is all just a thought game. "In fact, I think I might know most things before Teddy does," he finishes, and they both laugh aloud.

Then he asks, "Did you see the drivel Verdin is trying to pass off as an education bill?"

Jayne can feel the muscles in her jaw unclench as she says, "You're surprised? The man's a fool," and that's the last time, she vows, she's ever going to talk about Kelly with Nathan ever, ever again.

*

Jayne always hates showing at up at the White House Correspondents' Dinner because, frankly, they're not usually very funny. But she goes dutifully every year because, as Nathan says, if he has to suffer, she has to suffer.

She's creeping out during one of the speeches in order to take advantage of the empty ladies' room when she sees Kelly. It really shouldn't surprise her. The vice president is here with her husband-cum-chief-of-staff and a few more of her people. There's no reason Kelly shouldn't be here.

And there's no reason that she shouldn't look up as Jayne walks by, because Jayne's pretty much the only one in the room not paying attention to what's going on up front. Their eyes meet, but only for a second, and Jayne doesn't read too much into Kelly's half-shrug.

So she's not expecting it when the door to the ladies' room swings open and Kelly walks in. Jayne's resting back against the vanity, and when Kelly comes in, all she can say is, "Oh. Hi."

"'Oh, hi,' to you, too," Kelly says. She's wearing something made of dark brown silk, and her eyes are the color of blue-hot flame, and Jayne suddenly doesn't entirely know where to put her hands. "I saw you leaving. Thought you might be taking a breather from the forced festivities."

"People tell me I've got no sense of humor," Jayne shrugs. She's not quite sure what they're doing, and that makes her nervous.

They're quiet for a second and then Kelly says, "Want to come outside with me for a cigarette?"

Jayne quirks an eyebrow. "I didn't realize you smoked."

"Oh, I don't," Kelly says. Jayne just blinks, and thinks of how Kelly has one of the sweetest smiles she's ever seen. "I just wave the cigarette around and try to look my age." She grins. "C'mon."

Outside, the air is warm and laced with the first traces of summer's humidity. Kelly has a pack of Marlboro lights, and she takes one out before putting the pack back into her clutch. She even lights it, but she doesn't put the cigarette anywhere near her mouth, and Jayne wants to laugh at her but doesn't.

They're not quite talking, and Jayne has trouble staying still when she's nervous. She slides her fingers around Kelly's cigarette and takes it from her. The smoke leaves her mouth in a long, slow cloud, and Kelly laughs.

"You could've told me that you actually smoke," she says.

"Oh, I don't. I'm just better at pretending than you are," Jayne says, then turns her back to Kelly in order to look out at the Hilton's perfectly trimmed garden. "Spend too much time in Washington, you have to pick your poison. I chose overwork instead of nicotine, but I have a feeling things'll end up the same."

"Aren't you cheery," Kelly says. "You really know how to charm a girl."

"Charming you?" Jayne asks, looking back at Kelly over her shoulder. "Is that what I'm doing?"

Kelly just looks at her for a stretched-thin moment, then looks down to flick an invisible crumb from her dress. "A girl can hope," she finally says, very quietly.

Jayne turns to face her. First, she just stares, but Kelly won't meet her eyes. Then she smiles. "You want to do something? After this?" She gestures with the cigarette back towards the open doors.

"I--you mean--" Kelly says, and her skin crinkles at the corner of her eyes as she frowns and Jayne almost can't believe this wasn't completely obvious the first time they'd met.

"Calm down. It's just drinks. You can say no if you want," Jayne says, but she's pretty sure Kelly's not going to say no.

"It's just that, the last time," Kelly starts, chewing her lip. "We could go back to my place," she says, then.

Jayne coughs on a poorly drawn breath. "Pardon me?"

Kelly blushes, and even in the half-light, Jayne can see it. It looks good on Kelly's fair skin, and Jayne finds herself wondering if Kelly's face gets as hot as she guesses it does. "I just meant that the last time, I got a lot of flak for the Wonkette thing."

"You, too?" Jayne laughs. "I see what you're saying. I could get a bottle of wine, or--"

"No," Kelly says, nodding. "That'd be, that'd be really nice." She opens her little purse, pulls out a business card and a pen. She scribbles something on the back of the card then holds it out to Jayne. Their fingers touch when she takes it, and Kelly looks down again. "My address is on the back, and my cell's on the front."

Jayne slips the card into her clutch. "I'll call when I get there."

"Yeah," Kelly says, and looks up, and their eyes meet. Kelly smiles just a little and then says, "I should get back."

"Wouldn't want anybody to think you were out here with me. What would they say?" Jayne asks, but they just keep looking into one another's eyes. When Kelly finally turns to leave, she looks back over her shoulder just before she ducks through the doors.

"Well," Jayne says to herself. She drops the cigarette butt, grinds it out with the toe of her shoe. "And I thought it'd be a wasted night."

*

They see each other a lot, but always in private. They eat pizza on Jayne's couch and have sex on Kelly's, they drink bottles of expensive scotch and cheap merlot, they never talk about politics.

Jayne knows - she just knows - that it's too good to be true.

*

She's in the room when Nathan learns about the president's stroke. It's about noon, and when his secretary puts the call through, he listens for only a second or two before falling back heavily into his chair.

"Is he dead?" Nathan asks. "Well, thank God," he says, and Jayne mouths, 'what's going on?' but Nathan ignores her. "Where is he? Can I see him? Where's Grace?"

Jayne knows Grace Bridges and her eyes widen as she whispers, "The president? Nathan!" But he just brushes her off, and she has to wait to find out the truth.

But even the horror of sudden illness and the awfulness of death fade a way a little in the rush to plan. There's a presidency to ascend to, and even if that Mackenzie Allen thinks she's going to steal if out from under the Speaker of the House, she's sorely mistaken.

They're all sitting in his big office - Nathan and Jayne and the policy advisors and a few other congressmen - and Jayne thinks of Kelly and wonders what she's doing. Whether she's writing a victory speech or a concession.

But then Jayne realizes it's too hard to think of her, and so she doesn't.

*

It's front page news when Allen makes Kelly her press secretary, and half of Washington seems to think it's some kind of joke. Jayne doesn't know what to think.

She doesn't call Kelly and Kelly doesn't call her. It goes on for a few weeks like that, and then suddenly there's Kelly's number on her caller-id and she wants to answer but she doesn't.

"Hey," Kelly says, when Jayne listens to the message later. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for--well, I mean. This is probably really hard for you and I'm--I just. I don't really know what to say. You could call me, you know. I don't sleep anymore."

Jayne presses the phone to her chest and doesn't call her back.

She emails her, though, the next day, suggesting they get together. Kelly doesn't respond, and that makes Jayne nervous, and she can't stop moving around, waiting for her bell to ring.

When it does, it's after two. When she opens the door, Kelly's there, and just seeing her so drawn and tired and rumpled makes Jayne want to touch her, but she doesn't.

"Hey," Kelly says, standing just outside the door.

"Hey," Jayne says, standing just inside the door.

She finally moves back, and Kelly slumps down onto the couch the way she has a dozen times before. Kelly smells of cigarette smoke, but Jayne doesn't say anything. She supposes that everything changes eventually.

"Your couch is so much more comfortable than mine," Kelly says, her eyes closed and a smile at the corner of her mouth.

"Kelly," Jayne says, very seriously. She doesn't sit because she knows if she does, Kelly will touch her, and then none of this will ever work.

Kelly sighs and the smile falls away. "Jayne." She opens her eyes.

"We can't," Jayne says. "You know that."

Kelly doesn't say anything, just looks at Jayne through slightly narrowed eyes. Then she shrugs. "What about Jim?"

Jayne leans back against the arm of an overstuffed chair. "That's different, it's--"

Kelly smiles again, but this time, it's a little malicious, and it's not the kind of smile Jayne thought she'd see on Kelly's face. It's so ugly on her. "It's fine, Jayne. He's a man, you're a woman. I get it."

Jayne says, "That's not it at all." And honestly, it's not. She hadn't even thought of it that way, and that surprises her. "It's just, it's just that I like you too much.

"You like me too much?" Kelly says, then shakes her head. "I don't know about that."

Jayne wishes it weren't so late, wishes Kelly weren't wearing that suit, wishes she had a drink, wishes things were different but they never are.

"All I'll do is use you," Jayne finally says, and her voice might break, but neither of them says anything.

"What about Jim?" Kelly says.

"It's different with you," Jayne says. "It's always been different with you."

Kelly might laugh, Jayne can't quite tell. "No," she finally says. "In Washington, things are always the same. I could've, I could've told you that."

Jayne closes her eyes, and when she opens them, Kelly's gone.

*

Later, she'll leave Jim, too. She'll leave him and hurt him the same way she leaves everyone. The same way she hurts them. Kelly will avoid her eyes, and eventually everything will fade into the kind of memory you wish you could forget.

But one day, Jayne'll see a girl, and she'll look just like Kelly. She'll be standing outside some bar somewhere, and she'll be smoking a cigarette and staring at the sky, and maybe then Jayne will learn to cry for all the things you can never get back.

 


End file.
